


You Can't Go Home Again (But You Can Come Close)

by Sarah1281



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Reunions, Fix-It, House Stark, House Tyrell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:14:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4063009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah1281/pseuds/Sarah1281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Starks and the Lannisters agree on a prisoner exchange after all that leaves Sansa travelling to Riverrun to reunite with her mother and brother. She may not know what her future holds but surely it's brighter than the fate of being Joffrey's wife she left behind. For now, all that matters is while she may not be at Winterfell she still found her way home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Go Home Again (But You Can Come Close)

**Author's Note:**

> For Sansa Stark Week on Tumblr.

Sansa didn’t know any of the men who had ridden out to greet her but she was told that the one who looked like her, the one with the silver trout emblazoned on his armor, was her uncle Edmure Tully. She had never met him but he was family. And while most of what she had believed in had been torn to pieces before her very eyes, family had yet to fail her. 

Her father died but no one had seen that coming. He had confessed to treason and she still did not know what had happened there but he had meant to be sent to the Wall, they had all meant for that to happen, and being killed was not a betrayal. Arya had fled, Arya was probably dead, but Arya would never have been able to survive in King’s Landing. If Joffrey had been willing to have the woman he was to have married beaten publicly with no concern for what it would do to her as queen, what would he do to the ugly sister he hated and who had outright attacked him? Arya would have fought back the moment he ordered the kingsguard to lay a hand on her. She would have fought back the moment he took her to see the heads. She would have fought back the moment Joffrey called for her father’s head. And fighting back, as Sansa so often had had to remind herself, meant death. 

True knights were rarer than Sansa had expected and she often thought that Sandor Clegane, despite his lack of title, came closer to being one than the ones who had surrounded her and hurt her or just didn’t care. He was the only one who had been charged to protect Joffrey, charged to protect her once she married Joffrey, who hadn’t beaten her. But surely there would be some in Riverrun. 

It didn’t matter. How could any of it matter? 

She wasn’t going home. She wanted to go home more than anything but that wasn’t going to happen. Not just yet although she had hopes that it would be soon. Oh, to think that she had ever thought Winterfell was uncivilized and had resisted it when her father tried to send her and Arya back! To think she had ever gone to Queen Cersei to save her! 

It hurt to think about. 

“Your mother will be glad to see you,” Lord Edmure told her. “As will your brother.” 

Sansa was tired. She had been very tired for a very long time and the journey from King’s Landing had only served to make it worse. She had worried from the moment she first received the news that she would be leaving (which was only an hour before was to depart as the Lannisters evidently hadn’t thought she needed to know) that it was a cruel trick or that they would change their minds and take it all back. 

Joffrey hadn’t been pleased to lose her. He didn’t even like her, at least she hoped he didn’t considering how he treated her, but he had been promised he could wed her and no one was fool enough to think that once Sansa was out of the city that she would ever come back. She would rather die. But his mother and his uncle had insisted that it was a necessary trade. The look that Queen Cersei had given her son after he had whined that he didn’t care about his ‘stupid Uncle Jaime’ was enough to make even Joffrey cease his protestations. 

And now she was here. She was a valuable hostage, she knew. She was to marry the king and her brother was rebelling against Joffrey. But that was what hostages were for, weren’t they? Keeping her hadn’t ensured her family’s good behavior so they could kill her or give her back in return for something they wanted. 

And they had traded her for the Kingslayer. She couldn’t believe it. Jaime Lannister was the best knight in the realm, Queen Cersei’s own brother, and a skilled general. He was the best prisoner her brother had and he had given him up to save her. Not just her, there were half a dozen other former prisoners travelling with them, and Sansa had heard them saying something about Ayra. No doubt Robb wanted both of them but Arya…well Sansa had long-since realized what had happened to her sister. And while Sansa had sometimes, shamefully, envied her her lack of captivity in King’s Landing she knew that whatever fate had met with Arya would not have been a kind one. 

“I thank you, Uncle Edmure,” Sansa told him. 

He grinned at her. “You look so much like your mother. I don’t really remember her when she was your age, of course, but I can still tell.” 

Sansa smiled a little at that. Looking like her mother was one thing she had been able to hold onto, to remind her of home. “How is she? I have heard so little.” 

Lord Edmure’s smile faded and his eyes turned pensive. “She is grieving. She loved your father more than I realized, more than she had the last time I saw her. But this was years ago and they had a good life together.” 

Sansa blinked back tears. “They were very happy. I don’t remember a time when they were not.” 

“She’s strong, though. She was always so strong! She half-raised me after my own mother died. She’s made no secret of the fact she wishes we would all just make peace with the Lannisters,” Lord Edmure shook his head, clearly unable to understand the sentiment. “It’s not that she doesn’t see the larger concerns of the realm but she doesn’t want to lose anyone else. Ah, but she is a mother. I suppose it’s natural.” 

Sansa thought she understood. It hurt to think that the Lannisters could just kill her father and continue as if nothing had ever happened, as if the most cruel injustice had not been done. But all she had wanted since that day was to just go home and mourn in peace. Now Arya was probably dead, too, and Robb was fighting every day and she couldn’t lose him, too. If the price for that was to let the Lannisters win then surely that would be worth more than a burning world and everyone dead so long as the Lannisters bled, too. 

But she was no warrior. 

“I think she’s a bit nervous with your brother insisting on leading the fighting himself,” Lord Edmure continued. “I can see why, he’s very young but he’s growing up quickly. You have to when you lose your father.” His eyes turned distant for a moment before he shook himself. “I will admit that, despite his position, we were a bit hesitant about following a green boy into battle but it seems our fears were for nothing. Your brother is very skilled, Sansa. He’s handily defeated every army they’ve thrown at him.” 

Sansa nodded. “I am glad to hear that, Uncle.” 

When they reached Riverrun, Sansa was quickly ushered by a servant into a room where her mother and brother stood waiting. 

For a moment, she just stared at them. Her mother looked just like she remembered. Sadder than she used to but she had been sad when Sansa had left, too, because her family was leaving and they hadn’t known if Bran would ever wake up. Robb, though, Robb looked so different. He had not even carried live steel when last she saw him (though he had still soundly trounced Joffrey, a fact she remembered with far more pleasure than she had at the time) and now he was leading men to victory in battle. He had still been growing back then and he would still be growing, now. He looked less a boy now and truly a man grown. He looked so much older than she had expected. He was the Lord of Winterfell now, for all that he was only fifteen. Joffrey was a king and he was thirteen but, despite having his men fight far away from him, it never seemed to age him, to mature him, like being a lord was doing to Robb. But then, Robb was a king too, now, wasn’t he? It was easy to forget when she never allowed herself to think of him as anything but a lord or speak of him as anything but a traitor. 

“I’ve arranged for there to be a feast to welcome you and the other hostages home,” Robb told her. “But that will be later tonight. I thought you might not want to be overwhelmed right away. This is a new place, you would have had a hard journey, and you have been gone for a very long time.” 

She should thank him. She had thanked worse people for less and this act of kindness was done solely out of concern for her. But what came out instead was, “You got taller.” 

Robb blinks and then a surprised smile makes his way to his face. “I did,” he said, sounding proud. “And so did you.” 

Her mother stepped forward then, looking like one quite in a dream. “Sansa. Oh Sansa, my darling girl.” 

Sansa moved forward then, rushing into her mother’s suddenly open arms. “Mother!” 

Her mother bent down and kissed the top of her head, running her hands through Sansa’s hair to smooth it out. “Sansa, oh I thought…I am so glad that you are here!” 

After a moment, Sansa felt a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t know how long they stayed like that but eventually the moment had to end. 

“Sansa, you have to tell us what happened to Arya,” her mother said. “We tried to get her back, too, but the Lannisters weren’t willing to give her to us.” 

“We tried to hold out and not give the Kingslayer back without both of you,” Robb spoke up. “But it soon became obvious they were never going to give Arya back so we managed to get some other prisoners including Harrion Karstark which should pacify his father though the gods help us if anything happens to him.” 

“We thought perhaps the Lannisters were refusing to release both of Robb’s sisters for just one man even if the hostages were just two little girls and the other man was a man like Jaime Lannister,” her mother said. “But no one has heard from Arya since…and I would have expected they would be more willing to give Ayra back as I can only imagine you would be easier for them to handle. And I hadn’t heard anything about the betrothal being called off even though it’s little more than a farce at this point.” 

“I didn’t want to go along with them,” Sansa said, looking down. “Honestly, I didn’t. I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, Sansa dear, you never have to be sorry!” her mother exclaimed. “You were a child and you were trapped. No matter what you had to do to survive, we could never blame you for it!” 

“I didn’t understand, at first,” Robb admitted. “When I received your letter, I didn’t know what to think. But I had a talk with Theon about it and I just…I think I understand better. There’s no wrong way to be a hostage, Sansa. It’s fine that you tried not to upset them. It’s fine if you even liked some of them.” 

Theon? What did that have to do with-

Belatedly, she remembered her father’s ward (Robb’s ward now?) was technically there to ensure his father’s good behavior. He had been like her. But they had not been like the Lannisters. How could they have been? Sansa had never had much time for her brother’s much older friend and he and Jon hadn’t really gotten on but they had never hurt him. Not really. He had been punished for misbehaving, the same – more or less – as any of them but not what Joffrey had put her through. 

And she had never been able to forget what she was, not for a second. Looking at Theon, it was hard to believe he had remembered his true status any more than any of them ever did. But then, did the Lannisters know what she was really thinking? She had poured all her energy into making sure that they didn’t. And did they even care? Joffrey was always thinking that she was a traitor’s daughter and a traitor’s sister but what of Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen? Did they ever even think of her? They hadn’t been cruel, she really didn’t think they were capable of it, but she had never seen them either. What did they think of her? Did they? 

But they were not the Lannisters. It was different, surely. 

“I didn’t,” Sansa said quietly. “I mean, I did at first. I thought I loved Joffrey and his mother with all my heart. I thought I was supposed to. But then…I wish I hadn’t been so blind at first but I realized eventually. They are cruel. Myrcella and Tommen are just children but they weren’t allowed to associate with the hostage. And even Lord Tyrion, for all he was kind to me, was still a Lannister. I never forgot. I know what they did. They killed Father. And they-they hurt me.” 

Robb growled and, glancing over, Sansa saw his hands were clenched into fists. 

“It wasn’t as bad as it had been, by the end,” she said quickly. “Lord Tyrion put a stop to the worst of it.” 

“And what exactly,” demanded Robb, “was ‘the worst of it’?” 

Sansa lowered her eyes. It had been no secret what had happened, that was the most obvious objection Lord Tyrion had had and she still didn’t know if she believed there was anything more to it than that. But to tell her family…it had not been her fault that happened but she hated to hurt them by telling them what the Lannisters did. She did not want to fan the flames of this war any further. 

“Sansa,” her mother said gently, briefly pressing her hand to Sansa’s cheek, “please.” 

“Joffrey just kept losing,” Sansa said. “You know that. He hated you, Robb. He hated you since before any of this even happened.” 

“I should have hit him,” Robb muttered darkly. “Damn Theon for stopping me.” 

“It was a good thing he did,” her mother said sharply. “The consequences for raising a hand to the heir to the throne, even with what we have heard since and even with you being who you are, they would not have been good.” 

Robb’s shoulders slumped. “Still.” 

“I know, Robb. I know.” 

“Whenever he heard of a victory of yours, he called me before the court and he had…” Sansa trailed off and took a deep breath, reminding herself that these were not the hardest words she had had to say, that it was over and done with and merely repeating them would not bring any of it back. “He had members of the Kingsguard beat me.” 

Robb started violently and, when she looked at him, his eyes were dark. He likely wanted to hit Joffrey even more now. Maybe he would one day. Maybe he would even kill him. She didn’t think she would like to see it but she might like to know it happened. She didn’t know. 

Her mother just looked horrified. “All of them?” 

A face flashed through her mind. “Not all of them, no.” 

“What was he thinking?” Robb exploded. “Abusing an innocent girl like that because he’s mad at her brother! And he was still planning on marrying you?” 

“I don’t know why,” Sansa said. “But that did still seem to be the plan, although I imagine they’ve given that up as they’ve let me go. I don’t think there were many options for houses that Queen Cersei did not feel were below her son. And I am the sister of the Lord Paramount of the North regardless of the war. That’s why Lord Tyrion said it had to stop. He asked how people were going to see me as a queen if Joffrey had me beaten before the court.” 

“Tyrion Lannister is a tricky one,” her mother said. “I don’t think he’s better than the rest of his family but I will credit him with being no fool.” 

When Sansa looked at her brother again, he was smiling sadly at her. “I’m sorry, Sansa.” 

“For what?” Sansa asked. It seemed impossible that, having rescued her at last, he would feel the need to apologize for anything. 

“I didn’t save you sooner,” Robb said. “He beat you because of me.” 

“No,” Sansa was quick to correct him. “He hurt me because that’s he’s cruel. And you saved me now so that’s enough. You didn’t beat Jaime Lannister, did you?” 

Robb’s mouth twisted in distaste. “Of course not.” 

“But Arya, Sansa,” her mother said urgently. “What happened to Arya?” 

“She’s gone,” Sansa said simply. 

Robb looked grimly resigned and her mother closed her eyes as though she could not bear to keep them open. 

“Gone?” she repeated, barely audible. 

“I don’t mean dead,” Sansa was quick to clarify. “Although by now I have to think…I don’t know a great deal about what happened when Father was arrested. I was placed under guard by Queen Cersei before anything happened to him. Poor Jeyne Poole told me there was a massacre and they had killed her father before the queen didn’t want me to hear any of that and sent her away. I-I don’t even know what happened to her.” 

Her mother reached forward and grabbed her hand, rubbing her thumb over her wrist soothingly. 

“Queen Cersei didn’t want me to hear anything that would turn me against them, even then,” she said thoughtfully. 

“What?” Robb couldn’t believe it. “They accuse our father of treason and cut his head off and they don’t think that might turn you against them? You were never that foolish!” 

Sansa couldn’t tell if that was some sort of rebuke on her, a claim that she was foolish but not that bad. She had felt foolish for a very long time, ever since she had told the queen that her father had intended to get her and Arya to safety before…whatever had happened that cost him his life. She found she did not want to know. 

“And he was never meant to die.” 

The hand holding hers momentarily stilled. “What?” 

Sansa shook her head. “I don’t know. All I know is that everyone said that Father was to take the black. That’s what they told me, that’s what everyone seemed to expect. It was very upsetting to everyone when an execution took place right outside of the Great Sept of Baelor.” 

“Then what happened?” Robb demanded. “If Father was going to take the black – and I could live with that, it wouldn’t be justice but he would be with Jon – then how did he end up dying?” 

“Joffrey. He surprised everyone and he killed Father before anyone had time to realize what was happening,” Sansa said bitterly. “Or should I say, had him killed. He never did it himself and I don’t think he appreciates what it truly means, not like Father always did. I don’t really remember what happened after that. But Arya…the last time I saw her was right before this all started. We were having the stupidest fight. She was actually trying to make me feel better. I hadn’t wanted to be sent home, you see, and Father was speaking of breaking my betrothal and I don’t even understand and I just yelled at her and ran off.” 

Her mother and Robb exchanged a meaningful look. 

“The betrothal itself was never a good idea as far as a future for you,” her mother admitted. “It shames me, given what happened, but we never intended for you to wed Joffrey.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“We still don’t know if Bran’s fall was an accident or not,” Robb said. “Even if it was, the fact an assassin came for him means he probably saw something he wasn’t supposed to. Mother went to King’s Landing to find out where the knife the attacker was wielding came from and discovered it belonged to the Lannisters. Given what we now know about Queen Cersei and the Kingslayer…” 

“I shudder to think of the implications of Bran seeing something would be,” her mother said, shaking her head. “They were our guests and that was treason!” 

“They likely didn’t intend to be discovered up in a tall, isolated tower no one but Bran ever went to,” Robb pointed out. “And they have done worse.” 

Sansa found herself stuck on one particular point. “An assassin came to kill Bran?” 

Robb blinked. “Yes, not long after you left for King’s Landing. He set a fire to leave Bran alone but Mother refused to leave and was able to hold the attacker off until Summer – that’s Bran’s direwolf if you didn’t know – was able to kill him.” 

Sansa didn’t know how to react. Bran lived, obviously, but to think he was in such danger a man tried to kill him in the first place! “Bran is alright, though?” 

Robb smiled reassuringly at her. “Bran is fine, Sansa. He wasn’t even awake. And Mother is fine, too.” 

“Your father and I received a coded letter from my sister about how the Lannisters had killed her husband. Your father went to investigate and we did not want our suspicions to be detected.” Her mother gave an unhappy laugh. “We were trying to be safe. I’m sorry we never considered how much you would want the betrothal and how unhappy breaking it would make you.” 

There was so much information being thrown her way that she barely knew where to focus. 

“I’m not upset anymore.” 

“I know,” her mother said. 

“Arya,” Sansa said. She had to finish telling them about Arya and think about all the rest of this later. “No one has seen Arya since everyone was killed or captured. They wouldn’t have killed her. They didn’t have to, she was just a little girl, and she was just as valuable a hostage as me. But she’s just been gone and nobody knows anything about her. She was ordered to swear fealty to Joffrey like everyone else and I knew she had escaped. I thought she would be on her way home but it’s been months and if she hasn’t found a way to at least write then I don’t think that story has the happy ending I dreamed up for her. Even if she wouldn’t know you left Winterfell, Maester Luwin could get a letter here.” 

“She could still be alive,” her mother said immediately. 

“After all this time when we haven’t heard anything?” Robb challenged. “Mother, you know what it’s like for the smallfolk out there. I can’t imagine anything good happening to her out there.” 

“But you don’t know.” 

Robb sighed. “We can send people out to look for her but I’m not optimistic. It’s not that I don’t want to find her, Mother, you know I do. It’s just…” 

“We have to try,” her mother insisted. 

“What’s going to happen now?” Sansa asked. “Am I going back to Winterfell?” 

Robb shook his head. “Not yet. The roads are too dangerous and you’ve had a long journey. It’s dangerous out here, too, but Riverrun is safe enough. And we have people for you to meet.” 

Sansa tilted her head curiously. “People?” 

“I…” Robb looked down. “This is where it gets difficult, Sansa. I wanted to get you back immediately. We all did. But being king…I didn’t inherit this position. It isn’t mine by rights. Nothing will ever stop me from being the Lord of Winterfell but…I don’t know what the people in King’s Landing say. Probably that I’m a usurper. I didn’t claim this throne, my bannermen chose me to be their king. And when people decide something they can undecided it. If I lose their support then I am lost and I cannot allow that to happen.” 

Sansa smiled sadly at him. He did apologize and she thought she understood why now. “I understand. They didn’t want you to make the trade.” 

“I did not ask them,” Robb admitted. “I knew what they would say. Mother did but all I could think about was how Jaime Lannister was the Kingslayer and a member of the Kingsguard. He would be the heir of Casterly Rock if he ever left the Kingsguard, something a precedent had been set for by his sister the queen. He was a fearsome warrior and a skilled general. And you were two little girls.” 

“I knew he was right,” her mother admitted quietly. “I did not want to admit it and I did not care. I just wanted my daughters back. But if sentiment would not sway them I had to find better arguments. I pointed out Jaime Lannister clearly had no interest in being his father’s heir or he would not still be Kingsguard. I pointed out we could likely get a great deal in return for Jaime, not just you and your sister. I pointed out that, while Bran and Rickon are safe at Winterfell, if the Lannisters had you wed and there was a child they could have a claim to Winterfell. And that’s when we realized that, just as the Lannisters could marry you off to Joffrey or whoever they wanted, we could make alliances through marriage as well. Your sister is betrothed to a Frey as is Robb. But you were promised to Joffrey and so, with that betrothal clearly broken, there are possibilities.” 

“Those were the words my bannermen needed to hear,” Robb said. “We needed allies and we had to choose between Stannis and Renly. This was before we had heard of Cersei’s adultery and treason and so we had no reason to choose Stannis over Renly. But we did know that Renly had a massive host and that his support came mainly from the Tyrells. We offered them you and, though by that point Renly had been mysteriously killed, Garlan Tyrell and his retinue have come to discuss the matter.” 

“Garlan Tyrell,” Sansa repeated. “Is that who they wish me to marry?” 

She didn’t know what to think about that. She had only just escaped a horrific fate as Joffrey’s wife because she was set to marry a Tyrell. She did not know a great deal about them but it seemed she was truly supposed to marry one, not just the pretend betrothal her parents had agreed to for Joffrey. She would not need to wed just yet and surely her mother and brother would not have agreed to this if they thought her new betrothed was anything like Joffrey. But her brother clearly needed men that the Tyrells could provide. Her mother had been very happy with the arranged marriage with her father but the queen had not been happy with the king and she would not have been happy with Joffrey. And would anyone even know if her Tyrell groom would be a good husband until it was too late? 

But they would be allies. And an alliance sealed by a marriage pact would sour if the marriage was not civil. 

She had resigned herself to worse and this could actually make her very happy. She had heard so many lovely things about Highgarden. It was far away but she had made her peace with leaving Winterfell. She wanted to go home but she did not need to stay there forever. Perhaps with the Tyrells she could have all the parts that she had loved about Kings Landing and Southron culture without all the pain and the lies and the beautiful golden monsters. 

“Garlan Tyrell is already married,” her mother said. She stepped back a little but still remained close. “They wish for you to marry the heir, Willas Tyrell.” 

“The wedding does not have to happen immediately,” Robb was quick to assure her. “You’re still so young. They just want a betrothal. And Garlan Tyrell is here for you to get to know more about the Tyrells and so they can get to know you. Garlan said that his brother wrote you a letter and hopes you will write him back. I have not met Willas Tyrell but from what I have heard he seems like a good man. This will not be the way it was before, Sansa. I promise you that.” 

Sansa nodded. All of that was quite good to know. She did not like the thought of being betrothed to a man she hadn’t met, not after Joffrey, but she would meet him before the wedding, surely. Her mother had met her Uncle Brandon several times during their betrothal and it was only the unusual circumstances of Lord Bandon’s death that led to her not meeting her father until the day they wed. But King Robert had wanted the match and Joffrey had only been cruel after the death of his father. She did not know if this Willas wanted a match but if he agreed to go along with it for the sake of an alliance surely he would not mistreat her. And his wanting to write to her before they could meet was a good sign. 

“Can you tell me what you do know about him?” 

“He was injured in a tourney,” her mother said. “His horse fell on his leg leaving him crippled but, from what I understand, a great deal more mobile than Bran.” 

Bran was the first one she thought of when she heard the word ‘crippled.’ She had not seen him since he had woken up and, unconscious for so long, it hadn’t made a difference if he had been crippled or if he would have healed completely. She had heard some people saying that Bran would be better off dead and she had been horrified. He was her brother! It would have been better if he had not been crippled, certainly, but crippled was still better than dead. How could no one outside of their family see that? Still, she could only imagine how difficult it would be to just not be able to walk at all and she was relieved that her future husband was not so badly off. 

“They say he is studious and kind,” Robb said. “He is educated and has a reputation for breeding hawks, hounds, and horses. From what I understand, there has been some difficulty finding Willas a husband suitable for the future Lord of Highgarden due to his injuries but you will be the Lady of Highgarden and your children will rule one day.” 

“Kind,” Sansa repeated softly. “I think I should like that very much.” 

“It is alright with you, isn’t it, Sansa?” Robb asked, suddenly anxious. “It was the only way I could think to save you and we need the Tyrell men. But I know you always wanted to marry a knight and Willas will never be able to become one like his brothers.” 

“I wanted to marry a knight,” Sansa said quietly. “I wanted to marry a prince. I wanted to be a queen. I…do not want that anymore. I have seen knights betray that vows to protect the innocents and to hurt them on command. The only people who would help me were not knights. I want a husband who is kind. I can be satisfied with goodbrothers who are knights, true knights. Mayhaps my sons will be knights.” 

Robb smiled at her. “I do not know what the future will hold, Sansa, but I am glad that you are back. It seems wrong for us to be separated and even if I know Bran and Rickon are safer where they are I wish they were here.” 

Sansa smiled back. “I am glad to be here, too, and not simply because King’s Landing had become…unpleasant.” Something occurred to her then. “If the Tyrells had supported Lord Renly’s claim to the throne, do they want you to take the throne instead?” 

Robb sighed. “I believe so though we haven’t spoken about it. I have no wish to take the Iron Throne but I cannot just let the Lannisters remain there and one thing they have spoken to me about was their nonnegotiable demand that I do not, under any circumstance, ally myself with Stannis.” 

“With his belief of his brother dying issueless, he is the only one of us not technically rebelling,” her mother said. “And from what I know of him, that matters to him. The Tyrells think he killed Renly and will not forgive it but, even aside from that, Stannis has not forgiven them putting Storm’s End under siege and nearly starving him to death back during the rebellion. They would ally with the Lannisters before they allied with him.” 

Robb grimaced. “And that’s why I may have to take the Iron Throne, despite my wishes. I only ever wanted to be the Lord of Winterfell but if the Iron Throne is what they truly want, if they are willing to go to the Lannisters if I will not give it to them…I cannot take that risk.” 

“And there is the matter of Lady Margaery,” her mother said meaningfully. 

“Lady Margaery?” Sansa repeated. 

“She is the Tyrell sister,” Robb explained. “No one has said anything definitive but Garlan did imply something about me marrying her even though I am betrothed to one of the Freys.” 

“Betraying Walder Frey like that would cause problems,” her mother warned. “But if you had to betray them for somebody, a Tyrell would be the best choice. And if they truly do mean to see you on the Iron Throne they will want the queen and future king to be Tyrells and not Freys.” 

Robb sighed and smiled ruefully at Sansa. “See, you are not the only one everyone is so eager to marry!” 

Sansa laughed at that. “As long as I am in good company!” 

“We will work it out later,” Robb said. “For now, you haven’t even been shown to your room yet and there is the feast tonight. I will seat you by Garlan and you can ask him anything you wish to know.” 

Sansa had been exhausted before but found that she suddenly was almost buzzing with energy. Robb probably had some kingly duties to attend to, something told her he was more hands-on than Joffrey had been, but she didn’t want to leave her mother just yet. 

“I must look a frightful mess after my journey,” Sansa said. “Will you help me look presentable, Mother?” 

Her mother smiled at her, looking like there was nothing she would rather be doing. “Of course I will.”


End file.
